


Blue

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, High School, M/M, Punk Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: Written for the prompt: Could you write a fic with Dean and Cas where one of them wants to dye their hair a crazy color but he is scared, so the other one just shows up one day with pink hair or something to show support :-)





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> [Written and posted to tumblr on January 13, 2015.](http://herowords.tumblr.com/post/108015947476/could-you-write-a-fic-with-dean-and-cas-where-one)

When Dean shows up at Castiel’s house with bright blue hair and a big grin on his face, Castiel isn’t sure what to think. He blinks against the bright streams of sun shining in through the front door, cascading across Dean’s shoulders, and reminds himself it’s not polite to stare at someone with his mouth hanging open.

“I- come in.” He mutters, unable to tear his eyes away from Dean’s hair. He’s fairly used to Dean’s eccentric style, the nose and lip piercings, his body spattered in tattoos, his nails done up in black nail lacquer more often than not, but he’s never seen Dean do anything to his hair before, not like this.

It looks  _good_.

Dean steps inside, stomping his combat boots against the welcome mat. “Your parents home?” He asks.

Castiel shakes his head. “They’re gone for the weekend,” he answers.

Dean’s grin is wide. “Perfect.” He pecks Castiel on the lips and saunters off towards Castiel’s bathroom, a grocery bag swinging from his wrist as he goes. When Castiel doesn’t immediately follow he calls out over his shoulder, “You comin’ or not, Clark Kent?”

Castiel sets his feet in motion, brows pulled together in consternation.

In the bathroom Dean starts pulling things out of the grocery bag and sets them on the counter. Castiel eyes it all with a stomach full of knots.

“What’s all this?” He wonders.

“What is it you were telling me you wanted to do, but didn’t have the guts?” Dean asks.

Castiel swallows deeply. “Color my hair.”

Dean glances his direction and smiles. “Yahtzee.” He says. 

Castiel shifts on his feet and tries not to fidget with the bottom of his sweater vest. “You’re being very cryptic, Dean.”

Dean sighs, his shoulders slumping a little as he faces Castiel. “Sorry,” he says. “Guess I shouldn’t have just assumed this would be okay.”

“That what would be okay?”

Dean motions at the items on the counter. “This.” He looks down at his hands, his cheeks going a little pink and his devil-may-care persona ebbing into a softer version of Dean that Castiel has grown to know and love. “I just thought that if I did it first and then helped you with yours, you might feel more comfortable doing it.”

Castiel chews at his bottom lip. “You colored your hair for me?” He asks quietly.

“Well I didn’t do it cause I wanted to look like a fucking smurf.”

Castiel smiles and steps in closer to Dean. He lets his hands rest on Dean’s collar bone and curls his fingers over the other teen’s shoulders. “Okay,” he says dropping a kiss to Dean’s lips. If Dean can be brave enough to do something wild, so can Castiel.

“You sure?” Dean questions, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline.

Castiel nods. “I told you I wanted to.”

Dean’s smile lights up the room, and he kisses Castiel with so much enthusiasm, Castiel has to pull away to let out a laugh.

“Blue or red?” Dean asks, holding up two tubes of hair color.

Castiel studies the colors before pointing to the blue. Dean nods in agreement. “We’ll match,” he says.

About an hour later Castiel is staring at his reflection with his lips tugged into a small smile. They decided on just a few chunks, something to ease Castiel into it, but he loves it all the same. 

As he slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose Dean comes to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“You look hot.” He states.

“You can’t call me Clark Kent anymore,” Castiel points out.

Dean smiles. “Sure I can. Now you’re just a more punk version of him.”

Castiel huffs a laugh. “I’m not punk.”

“You will be when I get through with you.” Dean jokes. Castiel turns in his arms and kisses him soundly; for all of Dean’s wisecracks and jabs at Castiel’s conservative attire and ‘boring’ interests, he would never ask Castiel to change, not for any reason. That’s what Castiel loves about Dean.

When they pull apart, Castiel brushes his nose against Dean’s. Dean pretends to hate it, but his cheeks flare pink every time so Castiel hasn’t stopped doing it yet. 

“You wanna go make out on your bed?” Dean asks.

“Only if you take your shirt off,” Castiel quips, squeezing Dean’s butt once then turning to leave the bathroom.

Dean’s quick to follow after him.


End file.
